In the Shadows We Fight (for justice and ourselves)

Why do hate this much?

There are few things in life that last forever. Eternity is a forgein concept that most mind's hardly understand. There are many who swear their emotions are compatible with this amount of time, that they can be happy or sad or in love until the end of time. The truth is that it scarcely ever lasts that long. People are constantly changing. They will never remain in one state of mind for this made-up eternity. Lovers have falling outs, happiness fades away, sadness can be lightened to a more neutral mood, and with time, people are more resistant to agony through their own increase of mental strength or physical tolerance. Some things can survive for centuries, but eventually everything will be forgotten in the minds of whatever comes next. Even the gods are susceptible to disremember specific moments that don't have much impact in the grand scheme of things. Eternity was created to ease mortal suffering, to give them a reason to do something because if eternity didn't exist, if everything withers eventually, what would the point be in anything?

With that being said, some ideas or concepts can last several lifetimes. There are some emotions that are so deep even if they don't last long that imprint the very reality around them. The obvious hatred for Dream and his sidekicks that the vigilantes Nemesis and Blaze harbored with an example. It was Dream himself that the vigilantes had a quarrel with, so no one but the three of them understood the roots of the feud. What was clear was that the duo despised everything Dream stood for, including who he worked with, and Dream almost couldn't care less. When asked about this loathing by a reporter, Dream scoffed with a bemused smile as he told the world that it was one sided. Fantasy had asked once, when Dream was in a good mood, and she had been reported with a head pat and the words that it wasn't anything to be worried about. If Nemesis or Blaze ever tried to make a move, Dream would take care of it, but he didn't believe they would ever not be harmless. They weren't threats to him or heroes as a whole. They were illegal, but they weren't dangerous.

Reverie suspected that the vigilantes were slightly more formidable than they were given credit for. Still, with the way his abilities worked, Reverie could defeat the vigilantes on his own with no great amount of effort if he had the right strategy. It was this hesitant confidence that prompted Reverie to accept Nemesis' proposal for a meeting. If she hadn't admitted to having information on the Marionettes, Reverie wouldn't have agreed. It was almost stupid what he was doing. He was going to a nearly abandoned part of Essempei in a neutral zone not owned by any districts to meet a woman that had sworn bloody vengeance against the man responsible for Reverie. Nothing about the situation was good for Reverie except that it would be an enlightening experience. If it was all a trap to bait him into the open, Reverie would simply capture Nemesis alive to put her in prison like she should have been several years ago for illegal vigilantism.

The walk wasn't that far. Reverie was wearing an outfit that would hide his identity without calling attention to the fact that he was a sidekick. He didn't want anyone writing an article about him, or asking him questions about who Dream was behind closed doors. That would slow him down, and Nemesis explained in her note that she was on a tight schedule where Reverie couldn't be a second late. Plus, Reverie was never good with the attention. He was socially awkward without the knowledge that he was. He had a level of charisma that mainly made people pity him instead of getting charmed by him. Reverie hated pity, and he hated having to think about every word he said because all his words were a reflection of Dream's ideals. He would rather get suspicious glares as people wondered why a stranger in dark, shadowy clothes was brazenly walking down the sidewalk without a streak of reluctance in his stride. He was a man on a mission, and most people assumed that mission was something they would rather have deniability on.

The walk was cold, though, as the sun began peeking above the horizon. It wasn't enough to warm the streets of the neutral neighborhood, and Reverie felt a shiver go down his spine. As the warehouse Nemesis wanted to meet came into view, Reverie had his hands in his pockets with his hoodie pulled up over the lower half of his face. Nemesis was standing against the dull red door with flakes of paint along the door's bottom like a ripped apart welcome mat. She was in her vigilante costume which didn't provide any safety from the biting cold. It was Nemesis' power that kept her from trembling. As Reverie stepped closer, he could feel the heat wafting from Nemesis' skin. Either she was really cold, overcompensating, or her powers were responding to her nerves because Reverie was a good few feet away from her yet he felt the heat as if he was right by a fire. Nemesis had her hands folded together at her stomach as she leaned back, her brown eyes flecked with a metallic red-gold color pinning Reverie down. Her face was impassive like she couldn't care less what was happening. Reverie knew better than that. They were both risking a lot to be there.